


Whatever It Takes

by rawkfemme



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Food as a Metaphor for Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rawkfemme/pseuds/rawkfemme
Summary: Relationships deepen over time; from admiration, to devotion, to something even more. Kathryn and Chakotay examine what they mean to each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for round one of Talsi's Cutthroat J/C Competition, Gamma division. My prompt is the Jefferson Starship song "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now." You may want to look up the lyrics before reading.

**Crew Quarter 001**   **  
******Replicator Meal Record 00000474****    
**1 Serving Vegetable Bouillon**    
**1 Serving Black Coffee**    
**1 Serving Salad File 0016**    
**1 Serving Iced Tea**

  
   
She has to be determined. She can’t let anything get in her way. It’s all on her, but thank goodness she’s got the best team in Starfleet surrounding her.  Nothing is going to stop them. She won’t let it.  
   
Kathryn Janeway’s life is filled with reports and statistics and analysis. Piles of padds threaten to tumble over every time she passes by the coffee table in her quarters. Her desk is even worse.  She has them organized by department; Engineering, Medical, and Stellar Cartography.   She’s consumed with helping in any way she can. She has to get this crew home. She can’t let them be doomed by her decision.  
   
When her door chimes at 18:59 she doesn’t even notice at first.  It isn’t until her replicator generates its pre-programmed selection at 19:00 that she’s conscious of someone’s request to enter. Placing the padd that she’s been so focused on back on its pile, she realizes something. Her stomach is quietly unsettled and her pulse is slightly elevated.  Lack of caffeine?  Low electrolyte levels?  Or is it the realization of who is outside her door, and that if she forces him to wait any longer, he’ll likely call security to break down the door and check on her?  He wouldn’t actually do that, would he? He has the override codes. But Kathryn can imagine him rushing to her rescue if he ever thought she was in danger.  It’s the mark of a competent first officer, after all.  
   
Standing, Kathryn smooths the black and crimson of her uniform along the lines of her slim frame. A deep breath steadies her nerves and she commands the door to open. He’s there, forefinger poised to type digits into the security pad.  He was worried, and he was ready.  
   
“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting, Commander.” Kathryn smiles at him, stepping aside to allow him entry into her private quarters.  
   
“As long as you’re alright, that’s all that matters to me.”  
   
“I’ve got dinner ready.”  Kathryn, feels herself blush, and has to turn away from Chakotay to give herself a moment. His concern for her is touching, even if it is a bit unnecessary.  Crossing to the replicator, she pulls a clear glass bowl filled with steaming broth and plate heaping with produce; lettuce, mushroom, cherry tomatoes, and a small ramekin of dressing. She sets the bowl at her place and the plate at his. “I’m correct in remembering that you’re a vegetarian, right?”  
   
“You are.  Thank you. It looks delicious.” Chakotay follows her, removing the beverages from the replicator. Coffee for her. Iced tea for him.  
   
“I hope you don’t mind if we work while we dine.  My task list seems to be never ending these days.”  
   
“Not at all.”  
   
As they take their seats, Kathryn watches Chakotay drizzle the dressing on his salad. It’s Green Goddess. Her personal favorite. He takes his index finger and drags it around the rim of the ramekin, collecting the excess dressing and then licking it off. The motion unwittingly mesmerizes her; watching his finger move between his lips as his tongue rolls over to savor the taste of it. Kathryn clears her throat and brings herself back into the moment. Pulling a padd over, she starts thumbing through its contents.  She can’t let herself make eye contact with him, having been just driven to distraction.  All focus needs to be on the mission; on getting home.  
   
Home is Indiana. Home is her dog. Home is Mark. She’s been away from him too long. Mark was nothing but kind and adoring and patient with her, and in return she had cheated them out of these months together. How many of her crew are in the same situation?  How many left behind their lovers and their children and their homes?  How many had something to lose, and lost it all?  All of them.  But Kathryn knew that she was justified in her choice to destroy the array. The needs of thousands of Ocampa heavily outweighed those of her modest crew.  Looking up as Chakotay pops a cherry tomato into his mouth, Kathryn feels the need to break the silence.  
   
“I think we can do this, you know.” Her voice is soft, but unquestioning.  
   
Chakotay looks at her, his brown eyes are soft and he breaks into a sweet, closed-mouth smile, still chewing the tomato.    
   
“By ‘this’ you mean...”  
   
“Getting our people back to Earth.  I’m hard-pressed to think of a more dedicated group.  Starfleet and Maquis.  And we can build this dream, together. Nothing’s going to stop us. I won’t let it.”  
   
“I wouldn’t doubt you for a second, Captain.”  
   
For an instant, she’s surprised to hear him not call her by her name.  But then she realizes that she’s never actually heard him use it before.  Has anyone called her Kathryn since they left home?  But the formality makes sense.  She has to be the one with the title, standing strong. Forever.  Captain Janeway has to be determined.  Picking up the end-of-shift report padd in one hand and her spoon in the other, she puts any thoughts of ‘Kathryn’ out of her mind.  Until she’s home, she’s the captain.  
   
 

  
   
=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=  
   
 

  
   
He cannot believe how easily he’s been enthralled by her.   Ever since he’d first seen her on his grainy and out-of-date view screen, Chakotay has been captivated by Kathryn Janeway.  And now, he sits across from her, absent-mindedly pushing arugula and romaine around his plate as he watches her.  Steam curls up in wisps from her bowl of broth as her spoon dips slightly below the liquid’s surface and she lifts its offering to her lips.  Delicate and pink, they purse slightly as she blows gently over the soup. The current causes a ripple, and a drop breaks free of the spoon’s surface tension and lands silently on the table.  Janeway doesn’t notice the spill. She’s too engrossed with the end-of-shift reports. While she taps through the padd in one hand, the spoon poised and ready in the other, has been forgotten.  
   
Pulling his gaze from her, Chakotay returns his attention to his meal. Replicator rations are already running short, so meals outside of the mess hall are simple.  She was generous to share with him, but if this is how she normally eats, she probably has some to spare.  They had only started taking the occasional evening meal together a couple of weeks ago, but if what he’s seen in that time is any indication, he’ll need to watch out for her. Chakotay makes a mental note: make sure the captain eats. She’ll need her strength to lead the crew through what’s ahead of them.  He’s winding the tine of his fork through the pale green branch-like leaves of a piece of frisee when she calls out to him.  
   
“Commander, take a look at this,” Janeway says, as she passes her padd to him. After sipping the broth off of her now-remembered spoon, she sets it down and lifts the bowl with both hands. As she brings it closer, she grins and breathes the steam in.  Her comforted and peaceful smile makes Chakotay briefly forget what he’s been asked to do.  
   
“Based on Lieutenant Torres’ report,” Janeway continues, “we may be able to reroute power through the axionic reaction circuit. That would give us a fifteen percent boost in metronomic expenditures.” Leaning back in her chair, Janeway lifts the bowl to her lips. After a hearty sip of the soup, she sets the bowl back on the table and those exquisite lips rise into a smile that lights her eyes.  “Well, Commander? I happen to think that great news generally warrants a response, don’t you?”  
   
“Yes, of course,” Chakotay stammers.  She’s done it again, with her smile and her optimism, and her indelible passion for science. She’s left him utterly captivated. Clearing his throat, he knows that he has to stop staring at her.  Bringing his attention to the padd, he scrolls through algorithms and equations that he struggled even at the academy to understand, let alone now. “I’ll leave the figures in your hands, but everything looks good to me.  Having the extra power reserves would make the next 75 years a bit less stressful.”  
   
“Seventy-five years,” she sighs.  “Just a few short centuries ago a person could only be so lucky to survive that long.”  
   
Chakotay berates himself for reminding Janeway of what the cost her selfless decision was for their combined crews.  He knew she took the burden to heart, or at least what she felt to be a burden. He likes to think that he would have made the same choice if faced with it. But there is really no way to know.  All there is to do now is face every day as it comes, together.  
   
But, if he’s honest with himself, Chakotay is in no particular hurry to get “home”.  Earth hadn’t been home to him growing up, and as an adult he hadn’t had much time to explore it.  Home had been his family’s colony, and his Maquis base, and now _Voyager_. In this new life he works for someone he respects, he is surrounded by many of his closest friends, and he has an entire quadrant to explore. Earth offers him nothing but regret and remorse. Looking at Janeway’s bright eyes and the long graceful fingers that cups her cheek as she leans on her elbow, he wishes he could tell her the things that were in his heart. He wants to tell her that ‘this world that I’ve found is too good to be true.  Standing here beside you...’  
   
“Commander?”  
   
He’s been staring again. He knows it, and he isn’t able to think of a single excuse for his absent-minded and odd behavior.  It’s not considered good form to let your stunning and enchanting, but engaged commanding officer know that she has hypnotized you like she’s a magician and you’re an unwitting stooge.  After handing her back the padd, Chakotay lifts his fork, spears some lettuce and tries to act his rank.  
   
“My apologies, Captain. The axionic reaction circuit had me deep in thought.” Chakotay stuffs his fork into his mouth before she has the chance ask him any follow up questions.  
   
“Well, if you get any brilliant ideas, be sure to let me know.”  
   
While chewing, he tries to think of some sort of banal conversation to keep his focus on the ship and off of her.  Because right now her fingers have moved to the back of her head and are massaging what was sure to be a very sore scalp.  Wearing it up all day has to be heavy, and the way her uniform stretches as she arches her back is driving him to distraction.  
   
“How many sects of the Kazon Order did Neelix say there were?”  Chakotay has to say something to keep himself from acting like a drooling fool.  
   
“Fifteen, I believe.  Maybe eighteen. Why?”  
   
“Perhaps I should do some research.  Figure out what caused the order to split and become so internally hostile.”  
   
“And externally hostile.  For a species that struggles to find water, they do seem to have an awful lot of firepower.”  
   
“That they do.  We’ll, here’s hoping that they’re the first and last enemy we make in this quadrant,” Chakotay says as he lifts his glass of iced tea in a ‘cheers’ motion.  
   
“I’ll drink to that.” Raising her beverage to his, the metal of her mug meets his glass with a satisfying ‘clink’.  
   
The rest of the meal passes in companionable quiet, as many of their working dinners did. They pass padds between them, highlighting areas of concern or interest.  She refills her coffee and his iced tea, and soon he lets her know to switch him to decaf, or he’ll never get any sleep.  She tells him that she wishes she could stomach decaf, but she’ll have to settle for tossing and turning for a few hours.  She laughs lightly as she says it.  That laugh.  The way the right corner of her mouth raises slightly higher than the left. The way her small shoulders shake slightly. The surprised look on her face when the drinks she’s carrying back to him almost slosh over. The sound of her voice, relaxed and free, is intoxicating. Chakotay needs more.  
   
Evening draws into night, and the pile of pending padds dwindles. The reports are approved and filed, and plans for the coming week are put in place. Power, staffing, morale, and heading are all initialed in duplicate and routed to the correct divisions.  The ‘work’ of their working dinner is concluded.  And looking at his empty plate, and her long empty soup bowl, so is the dinner.  
   
If they were in his quarters, he might have asked her to join him in a glass of something.  Maybe. Maybe not. It seems bold, and perhaps too presumptive.  Is it too forward to give your captain spirits?  Would she think you were trying to liquor her up?  You hadn’t crossed that boundary.  It didn’t matter anyways.  You are her guest, not the other way around.  If she doesn’t want to move the evening to more comfortable seating, that is up to her.  Best to keep the discourse on the professional and away from the personal.  
   
Chakotay already knows all he needs to know about her anyways. Captain Kathryn Janeway is a dedicated, skilled, and loyal person. She has won the minds and devotion of not only some of Starfleet’s best, but of his own cynical and untrusting crew.  The Maquis has been through a lot, many of them more than one should ever have to.  But here they are, ready to trust again. She has brought that out of all of them. Most of all, himself.  
   
Excusing himself from the table, Chakotay waits for Janeway to dismiss him.  Instead, she smiles, rises, thanks him for working so hard and so late and bids him goodnight, pressing her hand to his shoulder.  The warmth of her touch radiates through him, and he can’t help but to smile. He towers over her when she stands so close to him, but he still feels dwarfed in her presence.  Janeway is larger than life.  Janeway is a force to be reckoned with.  Janeway is peace, and commitment, and trust, and Janeway has left Chakotay utterly captivated.  
 


	2. Chapter 2

**Crew Quarter 001**   
**Replicator Meal Record 00002216**   
**Synthesized Protein Roast KJ6– 16 oz. Portion**   
**Mushroom Gravy File 02 – 8 FL oz.**   
**2 Servings Mashed Potatoes**   
**2 Servings Braised Asparagus**   
**1 Serving Hot Black Coffee**   
**1 Serving Iced Tea**

As she waits for him Kathryn Janeway considers just how many times have they come this close to losing one another. Each has nearly died a dozen or so times.  Not to mention the occasions where they were kidnapped, beaten, possessed, or otherwise abused.  They both have a penchant for self-sacrifice.  She tries to tell herself that it comes with the job, but truly, it’s them.  It’s who they are.  And recently, she almost lost him again.  Today was Chakotay’s first day back on duty after his involuntary stint training for an alien war.  Today, he performed his duties for  _ Voyager _ admirably, but joylessly.  Every word, every glance, was bereft. His eyes seemed pained, and she yearned to ease that pain.

Kathryn had invited Chakotay for dinner. It was a gesture that she had often extended, and for a time they had been regular events. Until  _ Voyager’s _ run-in with the off-shoot Borg colony, after which she and Chakotay started spending less of their off duty time together. But seeing him still so tortured by his recent experience reminded her of her duty to him, both as captain and as friend. So, she programmed the replicator with comfort food and sent him an invitation to join her. His response took longer in arriving than it had in the past, and it worried her.  But when she saw three little words, she felt she may have reason to hope. 

_ “I’d be honored.” _

The door chimes right on time, just as Kathryn is slipping a bite of asparagus into her mouth. She bids him enter, and instantly regrets her choice to change into leggings and a tunic. Chakotay is still in uniform, and he seems so rigid and regimented that he may as well be wearing plate mail. But again hope springs, for clutched tightly in his hand is a single peach rose. They have a history with this particular type of bloom, and she’s noticed that he keeps a small bush of them in the airponics bay. He gave her the first one on a night that he refused to give up on her.  She won’t give up on him now.

“Perfect timing. I hope you're hungry, Chakotay.” Kathryn tries to keep her tone light and jovial. 

“Famished,” Chakotay replies, “but I appear to be overdressed.”

“Just lose the jacket. Taking that thing off can make a world of difference.” All Kathryn wants is for Chakotay to be comfortable, and instead he looks like he's about to crawl out of his skin.

“To be honest Kathryn? I'm not sure I'll be the best company tonight.” The rose is still gripped tightly in his hand, seemingly forgotten.

“Is that for me?” she asks, changing the subject away from his melancholy as she crosses to him. “You always find the most beautiful ones.” 

Chakotay lifts the blossom and considers its petals for a moment before presenting it to Kathryn. 

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“You hardly need inviting,” Kathryn sighs into a small laugh as she takes the rose and moves to the replicator. “All the hours we've spent holed up together, talking until who knows what hour? We may as well have just moved in together.”

Suddenly, the memories come rushing back to her. Pinstripes and polka dots, monkeys and insects, bathtubs and headboards. How long were they there?  A matter of weeks. So much grew between them. So much changed, only to have it ripped away. She had come so close to letting him in. Into her heart. Into her bed.  How much longer would it have taken?  A matter of days? Warm memories dissolve into the cool hardness of regret. In her head she hears a babbling river, and smells sawdust, and longs for a trip untaken.

“So what do we have tonight?” 

Blushing, Kathryn wills herself out of remembering what could have been and tries to focus on the present. He’s talking about dinner, she realizes. 

“A ‘Chakotay-Approved’ roast, and all the fixings.”  Kathryn calls for the rest of the stored meal program to activate and pulls a thin vase from the nearby shelf. A splash of water and the rose makes for an elegant centerpiece. Chakotay had crossed to the replicator while her back was turned, and Kathryn has to stop short to avoid knocking the food he’s carrying out of his hands. Deftly, he sets the bowl of potatoes down and winds his other arm around her waist to steady her. 

For just a moment, the world calms as she looks into his eyes.  She can feel his warmth thru her thin tunic, and his strength supporting her. Plasma storms and close quarters under a rickety table are in her mind’s eye now. Kathryn is sure that Chakotay must be able to hear her heart pounding, let alone feel it. When will she stop being forced to remember New Earth?  

Regaining her footing and her breath, she moves behind him to the replicator, retrieving the last of the dishes. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see his head droop. Kathryn silently chastises herself. So far, tonight is probably doing more harm than good. She’s supposed to be his friend, and all she can manage to do is fling both innuendo and herself at him. 

As gracefully as she can, she motions for him to take a seat opposite her at the dining table.  Looking across at him, she realizes that he’s still wearing his uniform jacket. 

“If you’re chilly, Chakotay, I can raise the temperature.”

“No. No, thank you.” His tone is stern and takes Kathryn by surprise.  “It’s just...it feels normal wearing it.  I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to.  Chakotay, all I want for you is to start feeling like yourself again. We've still got each other, and I’ll be here every step if you need me.  We'll be strong together. Nothing’s going to stop us now.”  Kathryn’s instinct is to put her hand over his on the table, but she’s seated too far away. That’s probably not a bad thing. 

Scooping herself some potatoes and gravy, she watches Chakotay carve into the roast. She worked a lot of hours to perfect a vegetarian friendly faux-roast that doesn’t taste like dirt.  This one may be close, but she knows she’ll keep tinkering with it until it’s perfect for him.  Chakotay takes a bite of the roast and gives a shy smile. The dimples don’t make an appearance, nor do the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.  It’s not the deep all encompassing grin that she had fallen in love with, but it’s a start.  Kathryn has spent a lot of hours with that smile; admiring it, seeking it, remembering it.  When it appears because of her, all feels right with the world. But the smiles reserved for her may have been left on an alien planet thousands of light years away. That chance may be over.  If all Kathryn can be his is friend and captain, then she’ll be the best one that she can. Nothing’s going to stop her now.

 

=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=Ʌ=

 

‘This is her best one yet,’ Chakotay thinks to himself, taking a bite of the roast. Kathryn had clearly gone through a lot of effort to make him feel comfortable. And it may be working.  For the first time all day he can feel his shoulders begin to unclench, like he’s no longer carrying a heavy rifle and the burdens of an entire platoon. 

Chakotay looks at the rose sitting between them, and wonders if it was a mistake to pluck it from his secret bush in airponics. It was meant as a gesture of gratitude, but as he looks at it all he can remember is sobbing over her body, and being completely sure that she had left him forever, followed in stark contrast by champagne, gentle breezes, a bobbing waves. He can’t help but wonder what she sees when she looks at the rose. 

He lifts his gaze across the table. She’s pushing the potatoes around her plate and making a little well for the gravy, but every once in awhile her eyes steal up and meet with his. She seems uncomfortable, but this is something that they have shared before. A companionable meal between co-workers.  Between friends. They’ve been close for a long time. 

Earlier in the day, his mood had been somber, almost morose.  The recent sight of his comrades-in-arms, brutally taken down right next to him had brought too many old buried Maquis memories back to the surface. But when Chakotay received Kathryn’s invitation to dinner, he brightened.  His step became lighter and his tasks were finished easier. It wasn’t until opening his closet to change that his melancholy returned. Surveying the contents, everything reminded him of the drab olive fatigues that he’d been forced to wear in the Nemesis simulation.  Shirt after shirt was a holdover from his Maquis days or in a similarly combative style. It made his bile rise, so he settled his stomach with a slice of bread. It was thin and flat, like they’d given him for breakfast at Larhana Settlement, and it pulled at his heartstrings.  Of his clothes, the only thing that felt right was the red and black that she’d given him.  The armor that reminded him of home and of her.  So he stayed in uniform.  

It wasn’t until it was almost time for him to leave that he realised that he hadn’t yet responded to her.  A simple “Yes,’ or ‘I’ll be there,’ didn’t feel sufficient. Chakotay needed to convey what it meant to him to be in her presence; that it was an honor.  As he rang her door, he realised that he felt like a nervous first year cadet showing up for a date.  Seeing her took his breath from his lungs. It was that smile. That damn radiant smile. 

She was chewing, which he was oddly gratified to see. He’d spent a lot of time over the years trying to get more calories into her. Recently, she’d filled out a little more and the doc nagged her a little less. Chakotay liked to see the shape of her hips grazed by the thin tunic she was wearing, but he needed to push such thoughts out of his mind. They had established long ago that they would never have the type of relationship that warranted the appreciation of one another's physical attributes.  At least, not in a way that the other noticed.

And now, they sit in what would previously have been a comfortable silence. But too much time has passed. Too many planets and too many circumstances.  But as he watches her, all he can think about is how she is the only thing in his life that feels real. So many things have lied to him or manipulated him; Riley, the Nemesis, Seska, even his own DNA.  She has been the one constant in his life.

“Kathryn, I…” Chakotay starts.  He is unsure of his need to speak stems from wanting to break the silence, or from wanting to confess his heart to her. “I just wanted to thank you again, for inviting me.”

“Of course,” she replies, as she sets her fork down. “You’re always welcome here.”

And there is is again. That smile. The one that makes him forget any parameters they had set eons ago and that makes him yearn to put his arms around her, and feel hers around him. 

“Our dinners, though, have been more rare in the last few months.” Kathryn says as she slips a bite into her mouth.  

“Yes, I suppose they have.”  

Chakotay knows much of that was his fault. He saw the look of betrayal and disappointment in her eyes when she met him in sick bay after he left the rebel collective.  She may have put on a strong front and tried to comfort him, telling him that taking care of others is just his nature, rationalizing him disobeying her. But for him, it was more than that. He had let his attraction cloud his heart, and he let someone else in, in a way that no one had before, or ever could again.  The connection was almost like a drug. It pulled at him and tore him away from Kathryn.  Those few days filled him with regret.  Since then, he could feel that he was losing her.  He could feel that what they had built as friends, and as almost more, was slipping away. He couldn’t allow it. Standing strong forever, they’d still have each other.

“You mean a great deal to me.  You do know that, don’t you?” It was hard to look her in the eye as he spoke, but he needed to see her reaction.

Kathryn swallowed heavily, and took a moment before speaking.

“Of course I do, Chakotay.  You mean a great deal to me as well.  There’s been no finer first officer, no better friend…”

Chakotay’s head drooped and Kathryn stopped speaking. Friend. There it was.  After all this time one would think he’d be used to her calling him that. He didn't know why he thought that he could warrant a deeper place in her heart.  Not after his betrayal.  Not after she was so clear that the ship, the crew, and the mission had to come first. But she was his anchor. She held him steady when the surging seas of doubt threatened to drown him. She was his constant and his joy. He would be whatever she needed him to be, just as he had sworn on New Earth.  He’d carry her burdens even if he could never hold her heart.  

“When I was in that simulation, all I wanted to do in the beginning was to find a way back here, to my home, my family,” ‘ _ To you’ _ , he wants to say. “But then my mind was warped and my objective became total and complete vengeance. I was a maquis all over again.” Chakotay rises from the table and crosses to Kathryn, kneeling beside her. 

“But you didn’t give up on me, Kathryn.  You help me see that in order to take it to the good times, we’ve got to see it through the bad times. And I’m not going to lose you.  Your friendship, or any part of you.  Whatever it takes, I will stay here with you.”

“And I’ll always come searching for you. Don’t ever let go, Chakotay. Nothing’s going to stop us now.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Crew Quarter 001**  
**Replicator Meal Record 00009987**  
**Custom File Vegetable Biryani**  
**Recipe Source JWY 624**  


  **2 tbsp olive oil**  
**1 small cauliflower, broken into small florets**  
**2 large sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed**  
**1 large onion, sliced**  
**½ liter hot vegetable stock**  
**3 tbsp hot curry paste**  
**1 red chili, seeded and finely chopped**  
**1 large pinch of saffron strands**  
**2 tsp mustard seed**  
**500g basmati rice**  
**140g trimmed green bean, halved**  
**2 lemons, juice only**  
**1 handful of fresh coriander leaves**  
**1 pitcher cool still water**  
**1 bottle white wine**

 

The time had come. They were finally going home, and it would all be over. The doubt, the guilt, and the longing.  She could finally have what she had denied herself for so long. Perhaps the festive atmosphere and the champagne had emboldened her, but seeing the way he looked at her out of the corner of her eye as she congratulated their crew gave her hope that she hadn’t lost him.  Not to time, not to ‘parameters’, and not to that damn 8472 wearing her old hair style.  

She’d been impetuous, ‘ordering’ him to cancel his replicator date, but then again, that was her role with him. She commanded and he obeyed.  Well, tonight there was a very different order of business at hand, and they needed to find themselves the equal footing like they had on New Earth if there was going to be a way forward for them on Earth.  Kathryn’s anticipation created an electric undercurrent in the air. It was almost spicy, and so she programmed a dinner to match. It had heat and flavor, and it reminded her of home. But now home was Chakotay, and she hoped that she could make her see that.

With dinner was in suspension, Chakotay would arrive any moment.  As Kathryn’s nerves grew unsteady, she paced her rooms and thumbed through the padd outlining the plans for tomorrow's flight.  Seeing the facts and figures made it feel more real, like they would really be back in the Alpha quadrant in less than a day. The door chimed and she did her best to appear cool and confident, and not as if she was about to climb out of her skin.

“Come in. Commander, I hope you've got an appetite.”

He stays in the doorway longer than she likes.  His shoulders seem tense and his manner too professional.  A sudden knot forms in Kathryn’s stomach and she hopes that she hadn’t misread him earlier that day. She invites him in and as he sits at the table he makes a nervous crack about not knowing she could cook.  It's a weak attempt at an ironic joke, but it gets his point across; that they’ve done this before, too many times to count.  

“Normally, I draw the line at a pot of coffee, but tonight is a special occasion.”

“Oh?”

“Our last night in the Delta Quadrant. I'd say that's special enough.”  She takes her seat opposite him, and hopes the night ends up special in every sense of the word.

She tells him about her decision regarding the flight and can read the doubt on his face.  Her fingers wind together as she speaks and see can see him watching them. She longs to run her fingers through his hair, across his broad shoulders, and to feel the warmth of his bare skin.

He tells her that any Starfleet engineer would think they were crazy.  Let them say we’re crazy. She doesn't care about that. With the decision she’s come to, tonight has to be their last night in the far reaches. They have to get back. They’ve waited long enough.

“Are you with me?” Kathryn asks.  She needs him on her side. She needs to know that he’s hers.

“Always.”

She hears his answer, and hopes that it's not just tomorrow’s mission that he’s talking about.  She needs to touch him.  It’s instinctual and she cannot resist.  She plays it off as though it's a friendly gesture, but in truth, her fingers yearned to caress his cheek. She lets them linger for just a moment longer than strictly necessary, and promises herself that it won’t be the end of it.

Moving behind him to the replicator, she calls for their dinner.  Its aroma is tantalizing.  The indian spices dance in the air and Chakotay turns to see what she’s bringing him.

“That smells amazing. Indian food is one of my favorites.”

“I’m glad. Hopefully this won’t disappoint.”  

“It’s a Janeway family recipe. How could it?” Chakotay takes the serving spoon and dishes Kathryn a large helping before serving himself.  But before the rice hits his plate, he pauses.

“Our shore leave on Rehsif IV, right?  You picked these dishes up there,” Chakotay says, examining the place setting.

“You were the one who discovered the potter.  I merely had the cash on hand to acquire them.”  Looking down at the red and gold plates and bowls, she remembers the brief shore leave over a year ago.  The dishes are more opulent than she’d normally have, but seeing Chakotay’s  excitement over the artisan's technique had clinched it.  She might have owned them, but she always viewed the dishes as _theirs_.

“That was a nice day,” Chakotay says, loading his fork with the melange of vegetables and rice.  As it crosses his lips, his shoulders drop and his eyes go wide.  “Kathryn, this is delicious.”

She giggles slightly.  He’s talking with his mouth full and his words are slightly mumbled, but it is such a welcome change from his stiff demeanor when he first arrived. They continue to eat, trading stories about various shore leaves.  The time Tom fell from a tree trying to pick some exotic fruit for B’Elanna.  When Tuvok’s logic failed him in a debate about the origin story of an alien religion. How Harry always seems to be the first one back on the ship. How Chakotay and Kathryn don’t nearly get as much time off as the rest of the staff.

“But of course, when we do we get bug bites that doom us to exile,” Chakotay jokes.

There it is.

Kathryn can tell that he regrets it the moment that he says it. His eyes stare at his plate and he sets his fork down.

“Kathryn, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”  

“I know you didn’t.  We got back and that’s what matters.” She tries to be comforting.

“No. You know I would have stayed on New Earth forever if that's what was meant to be.  I was at home there.”

“You certainly seemed in your element.  I’ve never seen so many woodworking projects happening at once.”

“It wasn’t just that, and you know it.” His tone is colder now and his eyes won’t meet hers.

Kathryn feels like her breath has been sucked from her chest. She remembers every moment of the time they spent together on that alien world. The awkward early moments setting up their home. The frustration at the lack of process in finding a cure.  The elation she felt when he unveiled the bathtub.  The terror she was faced with when she thought the storm might take him from her.  His veiled admission to her and how she wanted nothing more that the cross around the table and fling herself into his lap. The devastation when she realized that it was all over.

Today’s confetti and celebratory mood after so many months of disappointment had awoken something in her. Perhaps it had in him as well. Taking the napkin off of her lap Kathryn rises, circles the table and stands at Chakotay’s side. Maybe she was right to hope.  

“Chakotay,” Kathryn says as she places her hand on his shoulder, but he still won’t meet her gaze. “Look at me, please. I need to say something.”

Her thumb rubs back and forth over the soft material of his uniform. As his head turns to her, she can almost imagine that his eyes are glistening.  

“I’m so glad I found you,” she continues.  “All that I ever need, and all that I ever want is to hold you forever.”  Her heart is pounding out of her chest. She didn’t plan on being this direct, but as she said earlier, they’ve waited long enough.  When he doesn’t respond, she  takes a step back.  Tonight has been full of risks, but perhaps this one is backfiring.

“Why now?” asks Chakotay, turning to her. His voice is soft, but his stare is heated.

“Because it’s almost over.” The words tumble from her unexpectedly. “All those parameters and regulations?  Done as of tomorrow.  The mission is at its end and I can finally be free to…” she stops.  Is it too soon to admit that she loves him?  That she’s loved him for years?

“Free to what, Kathryn?”  Chakotay rises from the table and stands so close to her that she can almost feel his heartbeat. It’s now or never.

“Free to be with you.  The way you deserve, and I've denied.”

And with that, there is no more hesitation and no more doubt.  Chakotay’s arms wrap around Kathryn's waist and pull her close to him. She expects the kiss to be urgent and bruising, but instead he stops.  His lips do drop to hers, but the kiss is filled with sweetness and light.  As it deepens, Kathryn can feel moisture trapped between them.  Whose tears are they?  Does it even matter? No, it doesn’t. This is home. Not the blue-green ball that will be outside her window tomorrow. But this man, and this moment.

The kiss grows and she lifts her hand to the back of his neck and lets her fingers wander through his hair, as she had wanted to do a thousand times. His arm lowers and his palm grazes the curve of her ass.  Has he always wanted to do that?  Breaking for air, Kathryn steps away from him slightly and takes his hand.  No further words are needed as she leads him.  Past the table and her desk.  Through the living area and beyond the chaise. Before she crosses into the bedroom, she looks up at him. This is it. Nothing’s going to stop them now.

 

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It almost feels surreal.  One moment they’re reminiscing about away missions and the next moment Kathryn Janeway, the women he has loved for years, is leading him to her bed. As they enter her room, she turns to him.  Nowhere in her eyes is the shyness one might find during such a time.  No. They’ve been too close for that.  They know each other so well by now that this moment that should be wrought with uncertainty and nerves, feels so natural. It’s the next evolution in their lives together.

Kathryn takes a step back from him and reaches to the pull of her jacket. Slowly, the red and black parts and she’s down to the grey turtleneck bearing her rank pips. As she reaches behind her neck to pull the shirt off, Chakotay’s hands meets hers.

“Let me. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”  He deftly opens the back seam of the shirt and lets it fall gracefully down her arms.

As the cool air of the room greets her bare skin, a peppering of goose bumps are raised.  Chakotay runs his hands over her arms, warming them with his touch. Tossing the shirt behind him, he lowers himself to his knees. His hands graze her hips, and this thumbs play over the soft skin near her waistband. He can feel her breath hitch at the contact and to know that he can have this effect on her makes his hardening cock bob under the constraining fabric of his uniform.

After he eases her boots from her feet and her pants down her legs, she stands before him clad in only a simple black bra and panties. The dark color of the fabric against her pale skin in the dim starlight makes her look ethereal and unworldly, like something remembered out of the haziness of a waking dream.   But the warmth of her skin under his hands as he skims them up her thighs, and the moan she makes as his thumbs creep under the elastic at her legs confirms that she's here, and she's real.

Chakotay slowly peels the scrap of fabric from between her legs.  As he looks up at her, she realizes that her hands have moved behind her back and are removing her bra. As he rises to kiss her, she moans into his mouth.

“You are overdressed.”

Then the dance begins again.  Jacket and shirt and boots and pants, until just the regulation boxers remain and his cock is straining at the fabric. Her hands dip inside and grip his ass firmly, then circle around and lightly graze his shaft.  A low moan purrs in her throat as she touches him.  Not wanting a single extra barrier between them, Chakotay hurriedly pulls the shorts down his thighs and lets them fall to the floor. Kathryn’s thumb grazes his tip and smooths the pearl of moisture over him. He can't possibly breathe or even think under her touch.  All he can do is act on instinct, and on his heart.  The only things his mind can do is to utter the one truth he knows for certain.

“Kathryn.”  He moans her name.  It’s been the one sheltering port in these years of storm.  He wants to say more. He wants to tell her that he loves her. He wants to say the words that he hid behind metaphor for so many years. But if he says them right after her hand was wrapped around him, somehow they are robbed of their fortitude.

Her hands have grazed up his stomach and are warm on his back and chest. The lightness of her touch is excruciatingly beautiful.  He takes hold of her hand and presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist. His lips move up, skimming her soft skin with kisses. Her other arm wraps around his back and she pulls him close against her.  He can feel himself resting between the slick warmth between her thighs. His instincts almost take over and cause him to plunge into her then and there.  But he promised her long ago, her needs come first.

Chakotay walks Kathryn backwards and lays her gently on the bed. He drops down next to her on his side, and finally allows himself to touch her, to revere her. First her cheeks. Those cheeks that have ached with laughter and have been brushed by rolling tears. Then her neck; thin and elegant, hidden for so long behind her armor and rank. The swell of her breasts capture him next, often thought of, but never glimpsed. The pale rose of her nipples, firming at his touch, as this thumb skates over them.  Dipping his lips to them, he takes one gently between his lips and pulls slightly, testing her. The arch of her back and her arm gliding sensually up her side emboldens him.  He glances the nipple with his teeth, causing her hips to buck lightly and invite him to continue the journey.

While he continues to lavish her breast, his fingertips dance over the soft skin of her belly and find the apex of her thighs.  He grazes his hand over her inner thigh, feeling her react and writhe at his touch. As he dips a finger into her heat, her hips lift off the bed.  Kathryn turns to him and captures his lips in a heated kiss. What she moans into him sounds like his name, but to him it may as well be the heavens speaking.

Gently at first, he tests her.  He wants to learn her and know every way to bring her where he needs to take her. He can feel her react. Her breathing deepens and her hips rise and fall with his touch. Chakotay eases her wetness over her clit and continues his rhythm,  but growing deeper and unyielding. Her hands graze her own body, tickling lightly at her stomach and breasts, and then move to his arm, grazing up and down his bicep. Kathryn is nestled so close to him that he can see her pulse beating just under her ear.  He bends to kiss it as Kathryn’s body stills for an instant before she’s arching off the bed and giving a satisfied, screaming moan.  His hand, resting on her mons is able to ride her wave and continue its onslaught. As she catches her breath, her arm winds between them and she again takes him her hand. After a few pumps, he feel that he may come apart then and there.

As if she can sense his thoughts, Kathryn kisses him deeply and rolls him onto his back. Straddling him, she’s positioned over his throbbing length, his tip teasing at her wetness. Their hands clasped, he looks up at her, bared to him with only the dim starlight lighting her graceful form. To say that he’s ever seen anything more beautiful sounds cliche. But as she lowers herself onto him, taking him inside of her, all thoughts are drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of sublimity that envelops him.

Her head rolls back as she rides him, and he moans her name. Before long, he reaches that moment of unmitigated transcendence and pulses into her as she shudders and throbs around him. Soon, she is lying next to him, her fingers running through his smattering of chest hair. Pulling her close he kisses her temple, and his about to tell her what he’s wanted to for years when something sounding like an angry cat interrupts the moment.

“That was my stomach.”  Kathryn seems to be trying to burrow under him in embarrassment.  A growling tummy is perfectly natural, particularly as they didn't have much dinner.

“Stay right here.  I know exactly what you need,” Chakotay says, rising from the bed.

“You always do.”

As he leaves the room, he turns back. Kathryn is watching him, rolled onto her side with her head propped up on her arm. It still feels surreal. He is with her, and she is with him. Chakotay dashes across her rooms to the replicator and pulls up one of his personal files.

 

**Crew Quarter 001**  
**Replicator Meal Record 00009988**  
**Custom File Gulab Jamun**  
**Recipe Source CHK 815**  


**125g milk powder**  
**30g all-purpose flour**  
**250g white sugar**  
**½ tsp ghee**  
**1 pinch of salt**  
**1 pinch of baking soda**  
**2 tbsp yogurt**

 

Chakotay takes the small bowl with four small, round, sugar-laden Indian treats back to Kathryn.

“What have you brought me?  Is this Gulab Jamun?”

“It seems appropriate, given the dinner that you had made but barely got to enjoy.”

“Oh, I enjoyed tonight’s dinner immensely.”  Kathryn takes one of the morsels and pops it into her mouth, savoring the taste of it. “Oh, this is fantastic. I love you, Chakotay.”  

Her eyes snap to his as she realizes what she’s said. Chakotay can do nothing but smile. It’s a big smile. The type that makes your face hurt if you wear it too long. Grabbing one of the Gulab Jamun, he speaks.

“I’ll let you try to convince me that it was low blood sugar that made you say that, but we both know that’s not the case.  And, you’ve given me the opening to tell you this.”  He lays back down with her and places a dessert on her tongue.  “Kathryn, I’ve loved you for years. You are my peace and my home. I want to fall asleep every night and wake up every morning with you. And as long as it’s alright with you, I think we should start tonight.”

Kathryn gently removes the bowl from Chakotay’s hands and sets it on the side table.  She pulls him down next to her and presses her warm body against his. He wraps his arms around her and their breathing falls into sync.

“Don’t ever let go.  Let the world around us just fall apart. I need you here with me.” Kathryn’s words are soft and filled with sleep.  

As Chakotay curls up besides her, he can’t help but marvel at the peace that this woman continues to bring him. It’s hard to say what tomorrow will bring, or any of the days after that.  She’s so convinced that they’ll be in the Alpha quadrant tomorrow, and her attitude is infectious. He hopes he’s right, because if not and they’re still so many thousands of light years from Earth, he can’t help but fear that she’ll try to build back the walls that constrained them for so long.  But now, her breathing is lighter and she’s slipped into a restful slumber.  She’s tucked into his arms and her bare ass is cradled against his nakedness. He has to believe that no matter what comes, one way or another, they’ll still have each other. Nothing’s going to stop them now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @Helen8462 for the beta!  
> Comments are always appreciated.


End file.
